Crippled
by Astrid Goes For A Spin
Summary: As winter sets in, Astrid thinks about the new life on Berk: mostly, how Hiccup's doing.


We walk slower now.

We hardly run anywhere, no rushing, no slipping or sliding as we race.

No races.

No running.

One of the reasons is the ice and snow that we'll be seeing for another seven months. It gets dangerous to even go outside, but, being Vikings, not much keeps us in.

The other, primary reason, is Hiccup.

Is that Hiccup can't run.

He can hardly walk.

And so we linger along slowly, slow enough that he can keep up without straining himself, with that limping, uneven gait that even Gobber managed to overcome. Which he might not need to, Hiccup. Because of his friend.

It was a kind of unspoken agreement, the sort that no one questions, it's unanimous.

Hiccup can't keep up, so we slow down enough for him to be with us.

It feels demeaning most of the time. Like we're mocking him, that he doesn't have both feet anymore, that he wobbles around on that stupid metal lever Gobber made him, historically, the first Viking to ever replace a lost leg with anything other than a peg. This one was designed for the skies.

He's been so busy he hasn't even been able to make himself a new one.

Like he would, anyway. He's too busy with Toothless.

It really isn't fair, ever. He can't keep up naturally, when we walk short distances ordinarily. I've seen him try to rush outside to fly with Toothless, but every day he slips. But every day he catches him. What compensates, I think, for the loss of his leg is that he outstrips all of us when it comes to flying.

His dragon cares the most, and no one is able to keep up with him. In the air, in his prime, in his element that was deprived of all of us for so, so long.

I think it's fair, sometimes, the way the two of them get along. When Hiccup shot him down, the left half of his tailfin got ripped off. He couldn't fly, couldn't go anywhere by himself. Then Hiccup came along, built him a prosthetic and designed a system to ride, to give Toothless the freedom he'd lost him.

And then, battling the Death, when Hiccup fell from the saddle when they got hit with the tail, Toothless dove after him, and the only way to save the both of them was to grab him by the only available appendage. His left foot.

It's unsure what actually happened to it, but it may have just been too badly mangled with the tooth wounds in it from the weight of his whole body, the wrong direction, to keep. It's not like he had a decision, he was unconscious for a long time.

He's still weak. Not many people, though, you have to say, could end a war. Could bridge the distance between two hated races. Could make a lifelong friend, give up everything to save him, and succeed in the end.

And then, of course, was his injury. The two of them were shaky for weeks. They got the worst of it, being the only ones in the actual fight, the actual inferno. The ones who had bruises and bumps and minor fractures all over themselves for a month.

I think he's different now. He's stronger, more stubborn, not as sarcastic. He doesn't need to be. He's not that scrawny Viking always finding a way to destroy something or hurt someone by accident. The awkward boy who couldn't say hi to me without stammering and stuttering.

And then Toothless came along.

You could tell, if you were watching like I was, that something was off about his mannerisms. He grew – from when he tried to insist that he really actually hit a Night Fury, that it wasn't like the last few times – to the way he was more self-assured than anyone in the class.

How I'd go running, swinging my battle axe to see a Gronkle or Nadderhead lying happily at his feet, or when all he'd have to was stick out his hand, filled with long grass or throwing an eel or just scratching under their necks.

It didn't take long to figure out something was going on, and it became my mission to figure out what it was.

I think I knew it, but I tried to delude myself out of fear, when something fell over in the forge and I went to go find out.

"Hiccup!"

"Astrid, hi Astrid, hi Astrid, hi Astrid!" he stammered, and I gave him a death glare, as he giggled awkwardly in front of me. He had some sort of… harness on. For what?

Behind me, a sheep stopped bleating suddenly, frozen in fear, but of what? I couldn't see.

"Normally I don't care what people do, but you're acting weird," I accused him, pointing. "Well," I conceded, "Weird_er_."

He made a kind of grunting sound, then lifted slowly up, like he was being grabbed by his shirt, then he was yanked backward through the doors without a trace. I barged forward, staring through the empty forge, dark, and silent, but when I looked away I could almost see a dragon shaped patch of darkness with a rider on his back.

As strong as he was, he seems pathetic now, sometimes.

Like when he tries to catch up to me when I'm a few yards away and he arrives, almost falling, panting and gasping, looking so mismatched and unbalanced – like he'll topple over if you push him hard enough.

That's why no one does.

No one teases him.

No one tries to do anything, anymore.

Except ask him for help.

My Nadder's misbehaving, my Nightmare's cranky this morning, the family Gronkle doesn't want to feed itself, the Zippleback is fighting again. And so he goes and helps, and whatever happened earlier is forgotten.

Sometimes I don't know who's the chief anymore, Stoik or him. Stoik was an amazing, strong, determined leader when it came down to killing, hunting, and capturing dragons. Fighting, war, those were his strong points.

But Hiccup's gentler. He doesn't have any weapons or spiked clothes, and in the same way that he and Toothless fit together – he can't walk by himself, so Toothless flies him, and Toothless can't fly by himself, so Hiccup helps him, Toothless doesn't have horns or anything sharp – even his teeth retract.

Hiccup's just as stubborn and determined, but only recently, and for different reasons. For friendship, because of friendship.

Stoik rebuilt our village countless times, but Hiccup made sure it doesn't need to anymore. Hiccup gave us dragons, and managed to bring them back.

Hiccup, the hero, who deserves so much more than he got in life – a lost limb.

But he does have a dragon.

The first dragon.

The Night Fury, the one that used to be the ultimate prize, the absolute trophy of any Viking. The only one of its breed. The most perfect dragon, the strongest, fastest, most intelligent. One that has a vertical takeoff, capable of disappearing at a moment's notice.

One that's perfect for him.

One that he deserves.

And I think, to him, it's worth it.

To have a friend.


End file.
